


drunk on your touch

by pearlshop



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Codependency, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Protectiveness, Teen Romance, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 22:09:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19935292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearlshop/pseuds/pearlshop
Summary: Eleven realizes she’s the only member of The Party that hasn’t tried alcohol and decides to rectify the situation. Mike isn't exactly onboard.





	drunk on your touch

**Author's Note:**

> Another canon divergent fic of Season 3 where the summer continue as normal after the events of ST3. I really wanted to write about El discovering alcohol and her possible issues with that because that's the age when I started getting drunk with my friends.
> 
> *There's a realistic amount of sexuality in this, hence the mature rating. Mike and Eleven are hormonal teenagers and they're attracted to each other. Rating also applies to tagged items: this fic includes underage drinking and references to past child abuse mentioned in canon.
> 
> *Mike and Eleven's relationship is NOT meant to be the model of a perfect relationship. They're codependent teenagers with trauma. All problematic elements are done on purpose.

It’s a lazy summer night, and El’s legs are in his lap.

She’s been like this for at least an hour, stretched out on his couch and fascinated with Nancy’s old Etch A Sketch. Mike never thought he could be jealous of a toy, but he is. 

The rest of the party is strewn across the basement with them, forced inside to hide from the sticky invasive heat. Max and Lucas are monopolizing his Atari while Dustin and Will talk in the corner, Will sketching the entire time. Dustin has been trying to create a map of the Russian base for the last three weeks with Will acting his cartographer.

They’re surrounded by noise and movement, Dustin’s voice rising with excitement while Lucas and Max go back and forth - but all Mike can see is El.

Her legs are shapely and golden from the summer sun, at odds with how pale she was just a few months ago. The only pale thing about her now is her scar. It’s shiny and pink and wraps around the soft curve of her calf. El doesn’t like how it looks, but Mike can’t help but be drawn to it. He always wants to touch, like he can erase the old hurt if he soothes her just one more time.

When he strokes it again, El shivers.

“Mike,” El whispers, lowering the box so she can peer back at him shyly, “I told you it tickles.”

“Sorry,” he says, even though he’s not sorry at all. He runs his other hand up her calf, until El squeals and kicks at him, the Etch A Sketch falling to the ground.

“Mike! Stop!”

“We really need to get out of here,” Max suddenly says, dropping her Atari joystick. 

“Max, I was just about to win!” Lucas complains. Max snorts before patting his cheek.

“I’m sure you were,” she says, mocking.

“The mall is closed,” Will answers her, “Where can we even go?”

“Anywhere but here,” Max says, shooting Mike and El a look of disgust over El’s head. Mike wraps his hand around El’s delicate ankle just for good measure.

 _It’s my house_ , he thinks, annoyed. _If I want to touch my girlfriend, I will._

“I’m not allowed to have girls over at night,” Lucas says.

“And my house doesn’t have air conditioning,” Dustin says, “If you think I’m going back out into the desert for you Maxine, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“Same boat,” Will chimes in, smiling at her apologetically.

“My house has air conditioning,” Max says, before raising her eyebrows, “ _And_ something more fun than Atari.”

“That’s not possible,” Lucas says. Max chucks a pillow at him in response and wields another one until Lucas puts his hands up.

“My Dad bought a lot of booze for next week. Like so much, he probably won’t notice if we…drink some it?” Max grins, all teeth and mischief.

The booze is for Billy’s funeral, but Max skirts around it with a smile so they do too.

“I’m in,” Dustin says automatically. “It’s not like we were getting anywhere anyways.”

Will hits his arm. “Hey, I was trying my best,” he says, looking down at their makeshift map with a frown.

“Won’t your parents hear us?” Lucas asks, “It’s almost midnight.”

Max rolls her eyes. “Thanks for confirming you don't listen to a thing I say," she says, "I already told you, they’re not even home. I’ve been alone since Friday.” Mike only knows because El is sleeping over at Max's for the weekend, with Hop's permission. She told Hopper it was to help Max 'grieve' but he knows it's bullshit. It was mostly for the small freedoms they all take for granted like TV after midnight and late summer nights outside. It's the only reason El is there this late.

Still, he stays silent. He doesn’t care what they do as long as they do it outside his house so he can finally kiss his girlfriend, but then El speaks.

“Why do we need to go to your house to drink?” El asks, curiously, “Mike has Coke upstairs.” 

There’s a pause before Max lets out a nervous laugh. It’s a confused reaction but it’s enough to make El close in on herself, shoulders slumping.

“Oh, El,” Max shuffles over until she’s sitting at the base of the couch, “I’m sorry. I’m just surprised Mike hasn’t explained what drinking is to you.”

Mike hates the way she says it, like he was purposefully hiding something from El.

“What is it?” El asks, sitting up on the couch and pulling her legs out of Mike’s lap.

“Okay, well drinking is something you do,” Dustin says, always excited to explain something new to El, “But when people just say drinking they’re usually talking about alcohol. Booze. Liquor. The good old’ moonshine.”

El stares at Dustin with wide confused eyes that make Mike’s protective instincts flare. He wraps an arm around her, and El follows, interlacing her small fingers with his.

“You’re confusing her,” he says, “And why are we even talking about this?”

“Maybe because your fourteen-year-old girlfriend doesn’t know what alcohol is and that’s really weird? She’s not a kid, Mike,” Max snaps. Mike wants to bite back but Max doesn’t give him the chance because she turns to El and her face immediately softens. Sometimes he can’t stand Max, but he can’t deny that she loves El.

“Alcohol is like…fun?” Max says gently, “It makes you happy and loose and…I don’t know. It’s actually kind of hard to explain.”

“Fun?” El repeats, her brow furrowing, “How is drink fun?”

“Drinking,” Max corrects.

“Does it taste good?” El asks, trying to understand, “Like Coke?”

“Definitely not,” Max says, pretending to gag until El smiles.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Mike says, cutting Max off.

“Why?” Max asks, her tone deceptively calm. “I know for a fact that you and Lucas stole beers from my Dad last weekend because _I’m_ the one who helped. So why is it a bad idea Mike?” She cocks her eyebrow, daring him to say what she knows he’s thinking.

“Wow,” Dustin says, throwing his hands up, “Thank you Mike, I really appreciate the invite.”

“You were talking to Suzie and we didn’t want to interrupt you guys!” Mike lies. Lucas and him just didn’t want to climb that huge hill. “Besides, all we did was play Atari,” he mumbles.

“Is it a bad idea because El is a girl?” Max says louder, speaking over Mike. “Or because you don’t think she can handle herself?” She stands, staring down at him from his perch on the couch.

“I didn’t say any of that!” Mike yells, standing up too just so she isn’t looking down on him literally and verbally.

“You didn’t have to!” Max yells back. Eleven looks between the two of them with wide eyes before eventually standing up until she’s behind Max.

_Damn it._

The tense silence between them is broken by El.

“Why…is it a bad idea?” she asks, quietly.

_It’s a bad idea because you’re too innocent._

_It’s a bad idea because I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to do just because of Max._

He knows Max _and_ El will eat him alive if he says either of those things, so he can’t get it out.

“It’s not,” Max says resolutely, wrapping her around El until they're shoulder to shoulder, “Mike is just acting like an overprotective _asshole_. We’ve all tried alcohol El, it’s totally normal.” 

“I want to,” El says suddenly, “Be…normal.” 

It makes Mike’s heart hurt, that she thinks she’s something abnormal.

“You are normal,” Mike says adamantly.

_Even with a shaved head and no clothes._

Mike’s never seen her as anything else. She’s always just been a beautiful girl that he’s in love with, but never _just_.

Even though her fingers are laced with Max’s now, El smiles.

Max frowns, clearly annoyed by him undercutting her point.

“That’s the only thing Mike is right about,” she jokes.

El giggles and then they’re off, the two of them holding hands and running up the basement stairs.

Mike stares after them in annoyance. He really wishes Max would stop stealing his girlfriend.

“Where are you going?” Lucas calls after them.

“My house!” Max yells. She stares down at them from the basement door, hands on her hips. “There’s so much booze in our garage, it would take another monster attacking this shit hole town for him to notice.”

When they take a second too long to move she adds, “Unless you guys would rather split the one Blue Ribbon in Mike’s fridge? Be my guest.” She slams the door behind her but Mike can still hear the two of them laughing.

Dustin looks at the three of them with raised eyebrows before shrugging and following Max. 

Lucas follows, but not before mouthing a _sorry_ at Mike.

Will is the last one to go, staring down at Mike expectantly.

“Come on,” he says. When Mike doesn’t move he asks, “You’re not really going to let El get drunk for the first time with Max, right?”

 _There’s no way in hell that’s happening_ , Mike thinks.

With that in mind, he drags himself to his feet and follows his girl.

* * *

El rides on the back of Max’s bike instead of Mike’s, and that sets the tone for the night.

“We can be as loud as we want, my parents won’t be home until Monday,” Max says when they arrive, “They’re in California.”

“I guess I’ll just have to keep you company until they get back then,” Lucas says, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“In your dreams, stalker,” she says, but it lacks her usual bite. She shrugs off Lucas’s arm and turns to the rest of them.

“Beer is in the garage, boys! The harder stuff is in the basement.” She grins, fishing a silver key out from under a couch cushion. “It’s a good thing I have the key to my Dad’s liquor cabinet, huh?”

“Sweet,” Dustin whistles, snatching the key from her. When Max starts chasing Dustin for it, El silently turns down the hall and heads for the garage. Mike quickly follows.

She’s heaving a case of beer into her arms when he finds her.

“Oh!’ she gasps, nearly falling over from the heavy weight. Mike catches it and her by the waist with ease. It’s the one thing his long limbs and newly minted muscles are good for, and he’s proud of it. He can’t levitate people or throw cars, but he can always carry El. 

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she says, smiling up at him, “Thanks.”

As El turns towards the door, Mike lowers the case to the floor and catches her hand.

“Wait, El,” he says.

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to say…” Mike struggles, “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. That’s all.”

“But I do want to do it. Drink the drink.” El says. Mike doesn’t think she knows how to pronounce alcohol yet. 

“Do you even know what it does?” Mike asks, and he knows it was the wrong thing to say because El gets a hard look on her face. It’s the same look she had when she dumped him outside of Starcourt.

“Not _stupid_ ,” El stresses, stepping forward until Mike is pressed up against the garage door, “Max already told me. It makes things fun. It makes people happy. That’s why you drink with Lucas, right? Without me?”

“Is that why you want to try it?” Mike asks incredulously, her reasoning becoming a little clearer.

El answers by sliding him to the side and slamming the door behind her.

* * *

Mike hates this.

Cyndi Lauper is blaring obnoxiously loud from the stereo and El is staring at him from across the room when he wishes she was in his lap instead.

Dustin and Will are already drunk, the two of them playing a game of patty cake that mostly involves them falling over and laughing every few minutes. Lucas is too busy acting as bartender for Max to notice, pouring what looks like everything he found in her fridge into different plastic cups. Max takes long sips from each one before scribbling her rating on the side with a marker. Anything under a 5 goes to Will and Dustin.

“You want some?” Lucas asks. Mike can’t hide his face when he sees the murky brown liquid. 

“I’m good.” Mike pushes it away.

“El?” Lucas tries.

“It looks like shit, don’t give her that!” Mike yells. 

“I want it,” El says defiantly, snatching the cup from Lucas. Mike pointedly avoids making eye contact with Max who he just knows is giving him a smug look right now.

El doesn’t last long, quickly dropping the cup to wrinkle her nose cutely. “It tastes really bad. Like…like…” She gets a strange look on her face but Max distracts her before Mike can dwell on it.

“It’s supposed to taste like garbage,” Max says, catching El’s cup. She pours orange juice into it before passing it back, “Try it now.”

El looks down at her cup tentatively but does as she’s told.

“Oh!” she says, her eyes lighting up, “It’s sweet now.”

“Just add juice,” Max says, “Every time.”

“Just add juice,” El repeats before taking another long sip.

And with that token of wisdom, the party quickly dissolves.

Within an hour, Lucas and Max disappear upstairs in a flurry of laughs and whispers that Mike wishes he could unhear. Dustin and Will are passed out on the couch, Dustin taking up the majority of the real estate while Will clings to the edge to stay on.

Mike and El are the only ones left standing. Or in El’s case, dancing. 

She’s bouncing on her toes and singing along to a Bowie song that Mike doesn’t recognize, and she looks beautiful. He wants to tell her it’s a bad idea when she starts spinning and singing, but gravity does it for him. She falls on him in a mess of limbs and teased hair, letting out a squeak when she does.

“Sorry,” she says sheepishly, blowing her hair out of her face and into his. Mike knows they’re technically still fighting, but he can’t stop taking care of her so he tucks it behind her ear.

“It’s okay,” Mike says, like he can be mad with her on top of him. He expects her to continue her one-woman show, but instead she wraps her arms around his neck and whines.

“El?” he says. She presses a messy kiss to the corner of his mouth in response. He feels more light headed from the scent of her lip gloss than he does from the two beers he drank.

“Yeah?” she replies, the word muffled by Mike’s cheek.

“You’re not mad at me anymore?” Mike asks.

“Nu-uh.” El shakes her head. She nuzzles her nose against Mike’s jaw, nosing her way closer until she’s breathing into his mouth. “Not mad,” she says, her words slurring together, “Hate being mad at you.”

“I hate it too,” Mike says, remembering the disastrous week they were broken up. “It’s really hard to stop myself from touching you when you’re mad.” He’s barely drunk but the words slip out of his mouth like butter.

“You can touch me,” El says, “I always want you to.”

Mike takes it for the permission that it is, pulling her across his lap so he can kiss her properly. El’s thighs hang over his and she moans into his mouth, like she gets actual relief from his touch.

_This must be what Han Solo feels like._

Then, El breaks their kiss to laugh.

“Mike, you taste…really bad,” she says it seriously, but then she giggles so Mike knows she’s messing with him.

Mike gives El an exaggerated offended look that makes her smile wider, fingers plucking at the furrow between his brows. He catches her hands with his, cutting off her laughter.

“Well you taste…” He struggles. He wants to tease her, but he’s always been a bad liar. “Sweet,” he says, honestly.

_You always taste sweet._

El blushes all the way to ears.

“Really?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he says. She tastes like orange juice and tequila with an undercurrent of El. He hates both drinks but he adds, “I guess Lucas isn’t a bad bartender after all.” 

“Bar-ten-dear?”

“Never mind,” Mike says fondly. He loves explaining things to El but he doubts she’ll remember anything he teaches her like this.

“Okay,” El says, before she lets out a yawn.

“Are you tired?” Mike asks, voice lower now.

“No!” El snaps, pouting at him, “I want to kiss more.” She drags out the word more and pecks him on the lips but her eyes are half lidded and hazy.

“I want to kiss you too,” Mike says, “All the time.” He kisses her back tenderly before pulling away. “But tomorrow, okay?” 

El is already too vulnerable and open, her limbs and lips soft. He thinks she’d let him do anything he wants right now and he doesn’t want to take advantage. He never wants to do that to her.

_Not like them._

El looks like she’s going to protest again but Mike nudges his nose against hers and she melts.

“Fine,” she says, in a small voice, “Tomorrow.”

El stumbles when she stands, leaning into Mike’s body so she doesn’t fall over.

“El, are you okay?” Mike asks. El nods but her hold on Mike’s arm is weak and her eyes are bleary.

“Just hold on to me.” El does, her head lolling against his shoulder. “Yeah, just like that,” Mike says gently, and that’s how they climb the stairs. El clutching his arm and Mike keeping her steady with a hand on her waist the entire time.

Mike’s never been in Max’s house before but he figures the closed door with light leaking out from under it is her room.

The next door is closed but Mike already knows whose room it is. He walks El past it until they come to a third door. He peaks inside and only sees a nondescript single bed with a plain oak nightstand. Max doesn’t have any other siblings so it must be the guest room.

Mike rests her on the edge and sits cross legged on the floor, pulling her foot into his lap so he can take off her socks.

“Mike?”

Mike looks up anxiously but El’s face is relaxed and rosy.

“Yeah? Do you want something to drink?” He’s talking about water but El shakes her head forcefully and frowns.

“No,” El says, “I don’t like it. The drink…ing,” she says, remembering the phrase at the last second.

“Me neither,” Mike admits, “Honestly, the only reason Lucas and I got drunk last weekend is because he thought it would be fun.” Mike thought it would make him feel cool, like a real man, but all it did was make him feel out of control. He hates it, even more than feeling young. Feeling out of control means missing friends and fake bodies and losing El.

“Not fun,” El agrees, “ _Bad_.”

She has goose bumps even though Max’s air conditioner is weak and August heat still seeps through the walls. Mike frowns, running his hands up and down her arms.

“Bad,” she repeats, “The bad men, Mike,” she trails off, her eyes going glassy, like she’s in another place.

“El!?” Mike says, alarmed. He grabs her face and makes her look at him so she knows where she is. He doesn’t know what’s going on right now but she’s not with them anymore. She’s with him. 

El comes back to him with a jolt, eyes fluttering open until she’s staring right at him. He runs his thumb across her cheekbone to remind her.

_I’m right here._

“They didn’t call it alcohol,” El whispers, before Mike hears the worst thing he’s ever heard. “They said...medicine.”

Mike can’t even be happy that she’s learned out how to pronounce alcohol because his blood is on fire.

“Why…why…” He tries to make sense of it so he doesn’t have to focus on his anger, like there could be any reason for all the injustices forced on El’s body. She’s told him fragments of her life over the last few months and every new thing he learns makes him want to burn Hawkins Lab to the ground and take her far away where none of them can find her. 

He thinks when he’s finally a real man, he will.

A stray tear leaks out of El’s eye and Mike wipes it away with his thumb, chasing all the others that follow.

“They gave it to me when I got…dis…dis…”

“Disobedient,” Mike supplies. Disobedient is the word you use for a dog you’re trying to train, not a girl. Not El.

El nods. “I don’t like it,” she repeats, her voice getting more hysterical. “I don’t wanna…wanna…” Mike pushes himself to his feet, pulling her into his arms until they’re both lying down on the bed. She feels safer like this, held against his chest, even though Mike knows it's a falsehood. He can't protect her against all the things out there that want to hurt her and it makes him want to scream sometimes; his own uselessness.

“That’s okay,” Mike says, “It’s all okay. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Do you hear me, El?”

El doesn’t answer. She just sniffles against his chest and shakes. Mike touches her everywhere he can, a hand running up and down her back and another pressing on the nape of her neck. Anything to ground her in the present and stop her from falling back into the past.

Slowly but surely the tremors stop, and her short breathes become long and deep. Still, Mike doesn’t stop touching her. Like the pale scar on her leg, he’ll soothe this away too until the pain is just a distant memory.

“I’m sorry,” Mike says suddenly, “I shouldn’t have fought you so hard about the…thing.” He avoids saying drinking but El is almost asleep so she doesn’t notice either way. Instead she nods against Mike’s chest, wordlessly accepting his apology. When she’s awake and sober, he’ll do it again.

_What’s the difference between forcing her to drink and forcing her not to?_

The answer is easy; there’s none.

The stereo is muffled by the door, but still blaring downstairs. The only other noise is El, breathing softly against Mike’s neck. Her cheeks are flushed from her tears and there’s hair stuck to her lip. He gently brushes it away until he can see her pretty face.

_I don’t understand how anyone could hurt you._

Mike holds her until morning, but he doesn’t sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this please leave a comment or a kudos! It's the only way authors know their work is being read and it motivates us to write more.
> 
> You can reach me @pearlshop on Tumblr if you want to have words.


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